


Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

by chronicAngel



Series: Sand in the Wind [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Candy, Children, Gen, Insomnia, Isolation, POV Third Person, Sibling Bonding, Siblings, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 17:24:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15778665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronicAngel/pseuds/chronicAngel
Summary: "Gaara?" It is unmistakably Temari, uncharacteristically soft and questioning. He knows his sister to be loud and prideful (if he knows his sister to be much of anything, that is), and this is very different from that. "Are you awake?"





	Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

He sees them watching him, sometimes.

They aren't like the other children in the village who stare at him. When he catches them, they don't look fearful. They're not afraid of him like the others, don't immediately snap their eyes to their feet when he sees them looking at him or run in the opposite direction when he begins to approach so he can ask them if they would like to play. They don't talk to him, really, but they're not scared like everyone else. He supposes they feel obligated to like him.

After all, they're his brother and sister.

"Tō-san says we're not supposed to play with you," Kankurō reports one day, when Gaara is three and he is five. Then he adds dutifully, "I like playing with you though! You make funny shapes with the sand and Yashamaru-ji-san tells us stories about what you're doing up in your room sometimes." He peers around conspiratorially and then uses one hand like a shield at the side of his mouth, whispering, "I think Temari worries about you sometimes." Their older sister stands a small ways away, staring at the two of them with the brightest green eyes he's ever seen outside of his own. He wonders if they get them from their mother. Father's eyes are so dark, like Kankurō's.

"Why won't tō-san let us play together?" Gaara asks, his eyes wide, and he sees something on Kankurō's young face soften sympathetically.

His brother opens his mouth to answer a few times, but always falters and closes it again. Gaara realizes after the second time that he's not actually going to get an answer and frowns to himself, scuffing the sand underneath his sandals with his toes. He wants to be closer to his siblings. He doesn't know where to start with that, though, his three-year-old brain already too socially withdrawn to begin now. Temari seems to somehow read what he's thinking and slinks closer, too tall for a six-year-old if you ask him. He wilts a little bit in her shadow, shrinking in on himself.

She cracks a warm smile and offers him a hand. "Tō-san's not home right now. We can play something if you want." She doesn't whisper like Kankurō does, hiding his mouth with his hand as though every conversation they have is a secret. He supposes it is when they're never supposed to see each other. He doesn't know why their father insists on isolating him like this-- why _everyone_ insists on isolating him. He shakes his head as though to physically eject the thought and then grins up at her, warm and childlike. She beams back and drags him to the backyard, their brother trailing after them.

" _Daruma-san ga koronda_!" Kankurō yells, pointing a finger accusingly at Gaara, who stands as perfectly still as he can. Temari is much better at the game than him, but he doesn't actually mind losing very much. He likes being a part of the game at all. Scowling between the two of them, he turns around again.

He creeps toward his brother while his back is turned, exchanging a glance with Temari and trying to stifle his giggles. He doesn't do very well, and Kankurō immediately turns around with an accusatory point and another cry of, " _Daruma-san ga koronda_!" right as Gaara's lifting his foot off the ground. He loses his balance after only a couple of seconds and trips onto the ground, but the sand sifts beneath his palms and he sustains no scrapes.

"You just fell! I saw it Gaara! You have to restart now!" Kankurō sing-songs in triumph, closing his eyes and dancing in place. While his eyes are closed, Temari rushes over as stealthily as she can and taps him right on the nose.

"Gotcha! You lose!" She says, beaming with pride, and Kankurō pouts. "Now you and Gaara have to be the Daruma dolls and I get to be it!" She spends a minute gloating while Kankurō sticks his tongue out at their older sister, though Gaara isn't sure why. He thinks it's a lot more fun to be a Daruma doll than to be it anyway. Temari never actually gets to start her turn as the coveted _it_ , as their father appears in the back doorway and looms over all three of them, Yashamaru-ji-chan smiling sweetly at his side.

He frowns down at his elder son and daughter, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn't actually say anything, but it only takes a second for Kankurō and Temari to exchange a glance and then smile apologetically at Gaara before skittering inside. The look Rasa shoots Gaara before he follows them in burns, and he stares at his dirty feet. Yashamaru does, too, crouching down to pick him up and immediately fussing. "You need a bath, look at you! You're covered in dirt and sand."

He puts up with it, sitting sadly in the tub without a word while his uncle scrubs his skin with soap that smells of lavender and a soft, wet cloth. He is old enough to bathe himself, but he likes it just a little bit when Yashamaru-ji-chan coddles him. Right now, he just wants to be downstairs with Temari and Kankurō. He wonders if they are particularly close in their own little world where he doesn't exist. He pictures them playing with the other children in the village, both so friendly and never mentioning their _other_ brother. Everyone's sure to know though. After all, they're all the Kazekage's children.

He feels his frown deepen and lets out a little sigh, too heavy for a three-year-old. The weight of the world sags a little too much on his tiny shoulders and he constantly feels the pressure inside of him. He hates that. He doesn't like hating things.

"Yashamaru?" He asks, after he's gotten dressed for bed and somewhat dried his wild hair, though it has not been tamed in the slightest. His uncle hums in acknowledgement, delicate features all focusing on his nephew for a moment. Yashamaru has long, long eyelashes like Temari does, but his eyes are not green like theirs are. He wants to know if they get their eyes from their mother. That is not his question tonight. "Why can't I be with Kankurō and Temari?"

"Oh," his uncle says (or perhaps makes), smile immediately dropping into something sad and sympathetic. He brushes his fingers over Gaara's little forehead, damp strands of hair slicking back away from the pale skin of his face and toward his ears. "Oh, Gaara-sama. That's a very complicated question," he murmurs. He can feel the sting of tears in his eyes and he doesn't want to cry but he thinks he is going to anyway.

"I want to be with them!" He cries, though the tears have not yet started running down his cheeks. He sniffs and wipes at them anyway, scrubbing furiously at his eyes with small fists. "They're my brother and sister. I should be close to them. Like... like you and mom were, right?"

Yashamaru winces and Gaara thinks he should be sorry. He does not open his mouth to say the words, instead staring at his uncle with owlish, prying eyes. After a minute, the blond man sighs and runs a hand through his hair as though he will find the answers to Gaara's questions there, eyes dropping to his lap. "Gaara-sama, that's a very complicated question," he starts, and the three-year-old sniffles and lets his own eyes fall to his lap. _I know that_ , he thinks miserably. "I know how hard it must be for you to see them playing in the yard without you. You're a very tough boy, Gaara-sama. I'm very proud of you. I'm sure my sister would have felt the same way," he offers with a warm smile, and Gaara looks up at him for a minute as though scanning for a hidden answer in this. After a moment, he nods and sniffs and then accepts the hug he is offered.

A week later, he watches miserably through his bedroom window as Kankurō and Temari sit together in the backyard, their knees pressed together as they sneak more candies than they are likely supposed to have. Gaara does not know what rules they are supposed to follow about sweets. He has never actually had anything sweet that he can remember, not for a lack of trying on Yashamaru's part. His father simply won't allow it. No matter how many times Yashamaru jokes about sneaking him candies one day, Gaara does not think he will ever experience sugar on his tongue.

He pouts as Kankurō makes a face and spits out whatever candy is in his mouth, then turns to yell at Temari, who snickers at his side. He wants to know the joke.

Their father is in Iwagakure for the next few days for reasons Gaara does not have clearance to know, which leaves the three of them alone under the care of Yashamaru. Having to share who is already pretty much his sole guardian leaves him alone much more often, and he spends much of his time pouting out the window while watching his uncle try to figure out his niece and other nephew. He almost feels guilty for hogging him all of the time, watching the three of them.

Temari pops a candy in her mouth and he watches her face actually pucker from how sour it must be. He starts salivating in sympathy, and that's when he turns from the window with crossed arms and a little pout. By the time he's swallowed it and calmed himself down enough to turn back to the window without throwing his own miniature temper tantrum, she's noticed him at his window and is smiling softly, waving. He squeaks and ducks beneath the window sill. He is embarrassed to admit he watches them.

Yashamaru-ji-chan comes to check on him later, ducking his head into the room to see Gaara curled in on himself in one corner of his bedroom. He feels more secure when he's tucked himself into little balls, feels more secure when he's hiding away in his room, and he does not like having his safe space invaded but will allow it this time because it's Yashamaru. "Why are you just laying on the floor like that, Gaara-sama?" Gaara imperceptibly shakes his head in his arms, sniffing despite the fact that he was never crying. "You're going to wreck your back like that," his uncle scolds, scooping up his little body.

"Yashamaru!" He whines, but he appreciates it anyway. He uncurls enough to let his cheek smoosh against his uncle's shoulder and the blond sighs and rests his own cheek on top of Gaara's head, waiting for him to confide in him the way he always does. "Can I..." He starts, then stops, hesitating. When Yashamaru nods, he takes a deep breath and starts again. "Can I have dinner with everybody? Kankurō and Temari and you?"

He peers hesitantly at his uncle's face in time to see him blink in surprise, and then smile warmly. "I'm sorry, Gaara-sama, but you know your father's rules." His gaze drops to his feet in disappointment.

He eats dinner in his room, alone. He doesn't even finish it. Yashamaru takes the half-full plate downstairs later when he's getting ready for bed.

"I'm right across the hallway, like usual, okay Gaara-sama?" He smiles warmly, completely genuine, and Gaara nods just to get him to leave. He wants to be by himself for a while; to sleep or think, whichever comes first.

He lays in bed and like it so often is, it's the latter. He finds himself sleeping less and less often, in fits only a few hours before the sun starts to peak above the horizon and warm up the sand in the morning. Yashamaru suggests that his lack of sleep might have to do with him being so small. No one else will look at him to propose a theory.

"Kā-san? Are you there?" He starts, testing out his voice. It sounds and feels small in the darkness of his bedroom so late at night, but he doesn't want to speak any louder for fear of waking someone else up. He's sure his siblings must both be fast asleep by now. He supposes he prefers it that way. After a minute of silence, as there always is this late at night, he huffs in frustration and sits up on his little bed, pulling his tiny legs up to his chest and resting his chin on them, curling up into yet another ball. "I wish you were here. Yashamaru-ji-chan talks about you a lot, and I wish I could get to know you." He hesitates a moment, even peers around his room as though someone may be hiding in the shadowy corners and eavesdropping. When he's sure the coast is clear, he whispers, voice shaky, "And maybe you could make it so tō-san didn't hate me so much?"

He's met with more silence and moonlight and he doesn't know what response he expects from the figment of a ghost. He knows his mother is not really there, that she died when he was born, but he likes to believe Yashamaru's many assurances that she watches over him with the sand and some small, childish part of him hopes that maybe, some day, he _will_ get a response. "Everybody in the entire village hates me. They think I'm a monster. But I just want tō-san to..." He trails off. He doesn't know what he wants. He's really too young to understand what it means to have an abusive parent or how one would even begin to handle or _fix_ that situation.

There's the tiniest knock on his door, so soft that he almost thinks he imagined it, and rather than answering he drops back as quickly as he can and feigns sleep, trying to force his breathing to slow and his limbs to grow heavy. He doesn't want Yashamaru to worry about him again because he's not sleeping. He already has enough on his plate with the added load of two extra children to watch while tō-san is away. "Gaara?" It is unmistakably Temari, uncharacteristically soft and questioning. He knows his sister to be loud and prideful (if he knows his sister to be much of anything, that is), and this is very different from that. "Are you awake?"

He does not answer her aloud but cracks an owlish eye open, straining his eyes to go as far sideways as they can to look at her without moving his head. She still stands in the cracked doorway, poking her head in. He can't make the details of her face out in the dark. "I'm awake," he finally says after a moment, tentative.

"Oh good," she says back, sounding relieved, and then she steps inside and closes the door behind her as quietly as she can. He notices a bag in her hands before she places them on her hips, assuming a proper "scolding big sister" pose. "And _what_ are you doing up this late? It's the middle of the night!" She doesn't properly yell, but she does whisper yell with expertise.

"I'm always up this late," he defends. Something in her expression twists and he doesn't like it. "What are _you_ doing up this late?" He deflects, and he thinks if the lighting were better he would see her blush before holding the bag in her hands up. She seems embarrassed, but in the sweet sort of way. He stares at her for a long second before making a judgment call and scooting over on his bed to make room for her. He has no reason not to trust her. She's his sister.

She sits next to him and fills up the rest of the space on his small bed, then pulls the little paper bag into her lap and opens it. She reaches in and pulls out one of the very same candies she and Kankurō were eating earlier in the backyard and he tries not to let his eyes light up with too much hope. He can see her smiling despite herself anyway, lit up by the moon from his closed window. "I saw you staring at us earlier," she admits, and he forces himself not to be ashamed. "So I brought these. It's like a game _and_ a candy," she explains. "Most of them are sweet, but some of them are spicy or sour or salty. Kankurō _hates_ spicy things. I'm trying to get him to grow out of it."

He nods. This makes sense to him. "Do you... want to eat the first one?" He asks, biting his lip and looking at her. She beams, happy to play the brave older sister, and plucks one out of the bag and immediately pops it in her mouth. He stares at her in horror, awed by her lack of hesitation. _Temari is much braver than I'll ever be_ , he thinks, but it is not resentful at all. He likes being able to look up to his older sister. Feeling like he knows her well enough to look up to her. She hums in satisfaction and holds the bag out for him so he assumes it's sweet. He reaches into it and pulls out a candy that looks green in this lighting. Shooting her a look, he pops it in his mouth and holds both hands there.

He immediately wants to spit it out, but forces himself to keep it in his mouth, and not to squeak about it while he's at it.

Finally, after what feels like a full minute of his mouth watering trying to make up for the saltiness of the candy in his mouth, he mumbles around his hands, trying not to drool on his fingers, "It tastes like..." He pulls a face, finally spitting the candy out into his little hands and staring at it like it has wronged him somehow. "Natto?" He tries. Temari immediately pulls a face and grabs it from his hands to throw it at the little trash can by his dresser without minding the saliva that was still on the candy.

He has to stifle a laugh with his hands, still wet and gross, and then makes a face because they're already starting to dry into a sticky sensation. With little regard for future hygiene, he swipes his dirty hands across his sheets and then squints at his fingers and rubs them against each other to make sure they're fully dried. Temari snickers at this for a moment before fishing around in the bag for another candy, picking a pretty purple one and stuffing it in her mouth before she can change her mind.

He watches her for a moment with baited breath and then pouts when she murmurs, "Ube." That's two sweet for her and zero sweet for him. With this statistic in mind, he reaches into the bag and picks up and then drops back down at least five before finding the "perfect" one, though it feels the same as all the others.

It is bright pink and, when he pops it into his mouth, sickeningly sugary. If this is what most sweets taste like he wonders if it was worth all the trouble to try them. "I don't like it," he says, shaking his head, but he doesn't spit this one out.

"No? Kankurō said all the pink ones he'd gotten were sweet." He nods without saying anything, biting into the sweet, and she stares at him like he's lost his mind but doesn't say anything out loud for a long minute, instead grabbing another candy. He thinks it is either yellow or a very, very light green, but he can't quite tell. She stares at it skeptically as well, as though this looks similar to one she has seen Kankurō eat or else was tricked into eating herself, and then, slowly, puts it on her tongue. In a matter of seconds, her eyes widen and she fans dramatically at her tongue with her hands. "Wasabi!" She cries, tears springing to her eyes, and he can't help but laugh at her just a little bit. She glares at him through the tears, sniffing, and spits the candy out, holding it dangerously close to his own face. "Do you want to try it, you little punk?"

"What? No! That was in your mouth!" They're both being loud but he hardly cares right now, having a real bonding moment with his sister. He's astonished, frankly, when Yashamaru does not come to check on the noise. They continue to eat candies until they've almost finished the bag, though he can hardly believe it takes very long. He supposes it must be tiring for her, because she starts to sag against his side slightly or lean back further against the wall to keep herself sitting upright. He nudges her with his little elbow, blinking owlish green eyes up at her. Her own jade meet his after a minute, blinking and clearly sleepy. "Maybe you should go back to your room...? You seem sleepy," he offers, a selfish part of him hoping she'll insist on staying with him.

"Yeah, probably," she admits with a long-suffering sigh like she is not simply being a very dramatic six-year-old. She gets as far as standing and taking two steps away from his bed before she peers at him over her shoulder, concern visible in the crease of her brow. "What about you?"

He blinks. "What about me?"

She stares somewhere between him and her feet, tiny brows knitting together. "You said you're always up this late. When do you go to sleep?" He blinks, considering this, and is horrified and fascinated to realize that the answer is often just _I don't_.

She seems to draw this conclusion because she immediately marches back over to him and pulls him against her, and he has never been embraced by someone other than Yashamaru before and it's very confusing and warm and _nice_. He sniffs even though he doesn't feel even close to the verge of tears and moves to wrap his arms tightly around her, clinging as tight as he can in the hope that she'll take the signal and won't let go. He's so touch-starved and now he has his big sister. Things will be better now.

There's a point where he realizes his own eyelids feel like they are getting heavy and he wonders if this is what it feels like to fall asleep without passing out from exhaustion because he was already starting to forget. It's around this same point that she starts humming, hesitant and slightly off-key but it's so real and gentle that it warms him a little bit, nuzzling closer to her shoulder so he might be able to fall asleep. "Temari?" He asks, tentative and soft. She hums, different from the song. "Can we do this more?"

She pauses and doesn't answer him, and he thinks he knows what that means. It means that their father will be back from Iwa tomorrow. It means that they will not do this again. It means that she will have to go to the routine of staring at him sadly from a distance when he ventures out to the backyard, alone. She starts humming again, gentler than before, and he sighs. "Where did you learn that song?"

"Mom used to sing it to us. Kankurō and I, when we were little. And to you, when she was still pregnant with you, every once in a while," she says.

She brushes a lock of his unruly red hair behind one of his ears with her own little fingers and pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his head. "She said it was from the village that she was from."

"Mom wasn't from Suna?" He asks, surprised.

"She and Yashamaru-ji-san grew up here and went to Academy here, duh. But their parents were from a teeny tiny village further East from here. They moved to Suna because they wanted to start a business or... something. Mom ended up meeting dad a couple years later when they were still struggling and they fell in love and now we're here."

He lets out something halfway between a yawn and a fascinated _huh_ into her shoulder while she continues to stroke her fingers through his hair. "And mom told you all of this? And you remember it?"

"I remember everything about mom. Everything she told us, anyway. I don't remember when she was still pregnant with Kankurō 'cause I was too little, but when she and tō-san were having you, she used to tell us about how she and dad met every night. She told us a little more every time. About how Yashamaru-ji-san was born in Suna but she was born in their hometown, and she always wanted to be a shinobi and Yashamaru-ji-san didn't but he enrolled in the Academy after she was in it because he wanted to be like--"

"Mom was a ninja?" He asks, staring at her with wide eyes.

Temari laughs a little bit. "She was. And she and Yashamaru-ji-san were quite the terrors, I hear. Mom told me that she once fought the head of the Uchiha clan in Konoha's wife! Her teammate ended up dying in that fight," she says, her eyes glazing over for a second, and he stares up at her. When she snaps back into reality, she laughs a little. "But you need to get some sleep, little bro," she teases, jabbing him in the side so he moves to actually lay down. "I'll tell you more. I promise." He knows it is a fake promise, but he still takes some comfort in it.

She lays down with him for a long time, stroking her fingers gently through his hair until it's kind of slicked down in two directions (though it's still more wild than he would like it to be) and occasionally singing to him. When he's mostly asleep but still conscious enough to notice that she is getting up to sneak back to her own room, he feels her brush a tiny kiss against his temple and smiles, letting his breathing settle into sleep. _I've got my big sister now. Everything will be okay_ , he thinks just before his brain shuts off for the night.

Their father comes home the next morning. They never do it again. Gaara remembers. Temari does not.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to everyone's favorite older sister, Temari! This is filled to the brim with my dumb headcanons but I just really wanted these two dumb nerds staying up late together and being happy and cute so y'all can deal.


End file.
